Pam Nelson's Blog

Elizabeth Kates Smith Nelson 1928-2008

My mother-in-law, Bette Nelson, died Saturday morning. She was 80 and suffered from Alzheimer's disease. She had been in a nursing home for almost four years.

Bette was married to Lt. Col. (ret.) George W. Nelson for 56 years. They had seven children, David, Garry, Chris (my husband), Tim, Greg, Patrick and Lesley, and seven grandchildren, Jake Nelson (my son); Sarah Adams, Rachel Adams, Hannah Adams and Julia Adams (Lesley's daughters); Laura Nelson (Garry's daughter) and Alex Nelson (Greg's son).

Bette was a wonderful grandmother. She enjoyed babies and toddlers most, and she loved taking care of Jake when he was little. She also loved the beach, and, until she was not able to go any more because of her worsening disease, she rented a house for at least a week every summer at Sunset Beach, N.C. Her favorite activity was sitting in the sun and reading, but she played in the surf and the sand with the children.

Born in New Jersey and trained as a nurse, Bette was a housewife for most of her life. Because her husband was in the Army, she spent quite a few years moving around. They were posted to Germany when her oldest child was a baby, but most of their postings were in the United States -- New Jersey, California, Georgia and North Carolina.

Bette was a good mother-in-law. She was helpful in taking care of Jake, and she was never interfering or intrusive. I have missed her for quite a few years now, but I am glad that my son and I got to know her. The photo with this post is from 2004, right after Bette moved to a nursing home.

The political wisdom of Jake

I made a joke Friday morning that Barack Obama should choose someone named Roll for his vice presidential candidate -- so they could be Barack and Roll.

Jake said, "Barack Obama doesn't need to resort to a cheap pun on his name to win votes."

I still have a job

My company decided to lay off about 10 percent of its workforce. That means that 70 people will lose their jobs at The News & Observer. Chris and I are not among them. I guess I am relieved, although nothing that happened Monday reassures me that my job will be safe in the future. The most disheartening news is that we are going to have earlier press starts for the daily edition. That means that print readers won't get some late news and sports.

It's a Ben and Jerry's kind of weekend

Coffee Heath Bar Crunch is my choice as I write this. We expect to hear next week (June 16-20) about the layoffs that we have been anticipating for three weeks. The anxiety of waiting has been distracting, to say the least, and I will be relieved for the ax finally to fall, even it if severs my ties to the newspaper where I have worked since June 9, 1987. I am fully prepared to hear from my boss that I am being laid off, even if I am not prepared at all to live without a paycheck.

Either way this thing goes my life will be harder as a result. If many of my colleagues are laid off, then I will be saddened and saddled with even more work. It will be miserable to see colleagues and friends leave. We've already experienced a bit of that when two of our editors in Features took buyouts in the first round of cuts. The more I think about it the more I realize what a strong signal that was: Two talented, hardworking editors were allowed to leave. It must mean that there is no hope for Features to survive in its current form. That doesn't mean we will all be cut; some might be reassigned. I could be one of the reassigned folks. Or I could be one of the laid off folks. Either way, I am prepared to hear the news.

It would be a relief to think that I didn't have to go to work because I am pretty sure I can't continue to work under the conditions that we have now. I know that relief would be a temporary feeling. I would soon need to get to work somehow somewhere.

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Tim Russert died Friday of a heart attack. He was 58.

Bearfoot on YouTube

I found this today as I was looking around for news about some of my favorite music. This is a YouTube video of Mike Mickelson of Bearfoot singing "Blue Yodel." The band is from Alaska, and, gee, they are cute. Good musicians, too, and I really like the way Mike sings.

Thinking about Asperger's

I heard from a man who recently received a diagnosis of Asperger's syndrome. He sent me an invitation to Asperger's World, so I joined and read some of his comments there. It was interesting to read what he had to say about telling his parents that he has Asperger's. Some of what he wrote reminded me that sometimes I haven't finished processing (if that's the right word) the diagnosis that my son received almost eight years ago.

It's not that I haven't accepted the diagnosis or accepted the fact that Jake will have to deal with this his whole life. The problem is the guilt and worry that I have failed to do what's best for Jake. I worry that, because we didn't know this (even though I knew Jake was different early on), we didn't get Jake the right help. I think his motor skills would be better if he had had occupational therapy as a little boy. Or that he would have less anxiety if we had figured out what was bugging him earlier. I second-guess the decision to let him get a driver's license and to have a car. I feel guilty about letting him stay in public school and about not pushing him to stay active and instead retreat to his solitary pursuits.

Then I realize that most of what happens to Jake from here on out is really up to Jake himself. He, like me and every other adult, will have to learn how to deal with the world himself. He will have to take responsibility for completing his education and for getting a job. If he makes some choices that I think are bad, I can express my opinion but I can't always be there to stop him or even to rescue him. I mean, I will do whatever I can to help him, but ultimately, the path is his to walk.